


Dreams & Dreamwalkers

by Nevcolleil



Category: Inception (2010), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:20:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28399848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevcolleil/pseuds/Nevcolleil
Summary: A collection of Supernatural/Inception crossover ficlets.
Relationships: Dom Cobb/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 1





	1. But Business Is Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John doesn’t like the way Dom looks at Dean either.
> 
> Like he has no intention of letting Dean look away.

John doesn’t like him. Doesn’t trust him. He’s agreed with Sam to play nice because he knows that the guy means a lot to Dean - that Dean’s still watching for signs that John isn’t okay with this. This ‘my eldest son likes men’ thing. John’s still wrapping his mind around all that, yes, but that isn’t why he doesn’t like Dominic Cobb.

He doesn’t like Cobb’s fancy suits. His big vocabulary (at least when Sam sounds pretentious he somehow makes it cute - don’t tell Sam John’s said that.) The fancy penthouses and flats in Paris and London and Los Angeles… John raised Dean out of motel rooms and two-bed rent houses and not just because they didn’t have the money for anything better. John raised Dean to be tough. To look it, to live it. To make it wherever he went, so he can go wherever he’s needed.

Not so he can jet around the globe with some pretty boy “extractor“, letting people poke around in his brain for profit.

John doesn’t like the way Dean looks at “Dom”. Like he’s the greatest thing Dean’s seen since the first time he saw the sun come up. John used to look at Dean’s mom like that, and Dom Cobb is no Mary Campbell. For many reasons besides the fact that Dom’s got a dick.

John doesn’t like the way Dom looks at Dean either.

Like he has no intention of letting Dean look away.

By the time he gets it, John’s come to expect the call - he hasn’t decided who is most likely to be on the other side of the line… Dom? Sounding apologetic or maybe just bored, like he leads impressionable young men into trouble every day. Sam? Some random policeman or hospital employee looking for someone to identify Dean’s body… John doesn’t know who will tell him that he was right about Dom Cobb - that he was bad news for Dean and now Dean’s paid the price for it, but he’s come to expect it from someone by the time an unknown number rings him at three a.m. on a Monday morning.

Still, John’s stomach drops when he growls a sleepy “Yeah?” into the phone and hears a man’s voice reply, “John? It’s Dom Cobb…. We have a problem.”

John’s loaded up his truck and has been standing outside the motel for ten minutes by the time Dom’s car comes to collect him.

Behind the wheel is Arthur - one of Dean’s dreamshare buddies he met through Dom. John’s spoken to him once; he’s a good kid, if a little quiet, a little cocky. But John doesn’t talk to him.

There’s a problem alright, but if Dean is dead then the problem will be Arthur’s.

So far as John can tell, he’ll be the one to make Dom’s funeral arrangements after John’s killed him.

When they get to the airport John is calm enough to hand over his guns to Arthur without argument. Arthur’s obvious concern for Dean, his insistence that they will get Dean back, make some of the red fade from John’s vision - even if Arthur’s refusal to tell John who the hell they need to get Dean back from and why still pisses him off.

He actually manages to walk into the cab of Dom’s plane and not immediately begin to pummel the bastard who got his boy into all this.

Dom rises from his seat. A laptop and a stack of file folders litter the small table at his side. He’s missing his usually immaculate suit jacket and tie, the top buttons undone on the dress shirt he looks to have been wearing since at least the day before, untucked, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

His hair is tousled. He hasn’t shaved. Both his fists are bandaged and the red seeping through the bandages on his right hand say it was a hasty job.

John… John wasn’t expecting this.

He’s barely aware of Arthur coming aboard the plane behind him, taking a seat where he can watch Cobb, dark eyes sharp and worried.

“Mr. Win- John, I swear to god, I wouldn’t have given the go-ahead on something like this, if I’d had any idea-”

John interrupts. Dom’s voice is like gravel, the usually smooth tone of it rubbed raw and blistered. John hadn’t noticed over the phone. He’s gotten calls from Dean before, while Dean was on a plane, that were barely intelligible; he’d just assumed…

He glances at Arthur but Arthur’s eyes won’t leave Dom. “What happened?” John asks.

Dom explains, returning to his seat as John takes his. Dean flew solo to Marikesh. He and Dom work separately on occasion, and the case Dom was working didn’t require a forger while the one in Morocco did. Dean had worked with the architect on the other job before; everything looked legit.

“I should have known better,” Dom says, out the corner of his mouth, lighting up for the second time since he started talking. His fingers don’t tremble as he holds his cigarette between them, but they had - a moment ago - when he poured himself a drink before letting Arthur take the decanter and pour two more.

They have rules, Dom says, about who they work with. Nobody new or without a thorough background check. Nobody twice who’s ever botched a job. Nobody with ties to rival extraction teams, military installations, or government agencies. They’re Dom’s rules - paranoid and expansive - and John catches himself nodding at the thought of them in approval.

Dean’s job broke the rules. That architect had worked with him on a job in Sydney that went sideways, during a time when Dean and Dom were on the outs privately and professionally.

Dom didn’t know. Dean obviously thought it wasn’t significant.

The architect sold Dean out to some angry people who want the money they lost on the job in Australia.

Despite Arthur’s attempts to stop him, Dom shows John the footage Dean’s captors sent him… Their “preview” of what will happen if Dom doesn’t pay up.

It-

It hurts. It’s painful to watch the fists flying, the blood splattering (Dean’s blood) in that footage. It makes John’s blood boil, his fists clench. It brings to the surface all the darkness inside of him, and after all of the years that John has fought evil- Has dogged its steps, stumbled upon its ruins… Inside John, things are plenty dark.

But.

The rage that fills John isn’t for Dom. Not anymore. Not now that he’s seen how Dom reacts to Dean being in trouble, and the reaction is anything but bored. Not after hearing Dom’s voice break as he pointed out the faces in the video, seeing his bloodshot eyes as he watched John over the screen of his laptop, waiting for John to get enough of watching Dean get beaten and- What? Start in on Dom? Tell Dom all of the things he imagined himself telling the other man, before? The things Dom is obviously telling himself.

Dom looks like he wants it. John’s words, John’s fists, John’s fury.

Suddenly, John wants to give the guy something. But it won’t be that.

“What are your plans?”

Dom blinks. Arthur looks at John. They’re both obviously surprised that John is being as calm as he is about this. They don’t know him well enough to know that he’s just saving himself for Sydney.

“Short answer?” Dom says, completely serious. He doesn’t smile as he points to the frozen computer screen and says, “We kill them all.” He breathes out a puff of smoke and asks, “Or do you want details?”

Details can wait til after they’ve picked up Sammy.

“Nah, that’ll do.”

John’s quiet for the rest of the flight, preparing himself for their mission to rescue one of his sons and the ‘I told you so’ he’s sure to get from the other.


	2. Green-Eyed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a bad idea. It has all the makings of a low-budget rom com… or a cheap slasher flick, depending upon whether or not Dom finds out.

It’s a bad idea. It has all the makings of a low-budget rom com… or a cheap slasher flick, depending upon whether or not Dom finds out. It surprises Dean a little that Arthur wants to do this.

Then again, Dean tries to picture the phone call that would clear everything up another way…

‘Yeah, Eames? Yeah, hello, it’s- Arthur, yeah, the guy you slept with for a year and then walked out on inexplicably. Remember the man you saw me with in the bar last night? Uh-huh. Well, we’re not actually together… Whatever you seem to have believed when you left fifteen drunk messages on my phone last night. Yeah, he’s actually with Dom. Remember him? My boss and bff, the one who gets really pissed off when other guys hit on his man?‘

Okay, so maybe Arthur wouldn’t say it all like that, but still. Awkward.

“I don’t know, man, it’s a small world. What if it gets back to Dom that-”

“We’ll tell Dom when he gets back this evening. He’ll probably think it’s funny.”

Dean doubts that. Not because he doesn’t think Dom will believe him, when he and Arthur explain why Eames got the wrong idea about them. But because Eames is kind of a touchy subject with Dom; Arthur might not even know how much. Dean doesn’t know the man; the way Arthur talks about him, when he forgets that he hates him? Eames sounds like Dean’s kinda guy.

Except Dean’s kinda guy wouldn’t do a douchey thing like break Arthur’s heart, and Dom might be even more pissed off about that than Arthur is. Even a year later, no matter how much he might seem to trust and respect the forger.

“If you say so. But, dude, if he doesn’t-” Dean tucks his cell phone between his cheek and his shoulder so he can drop his towel and pull on a pair of boxer shorts. Like there’s some kind of teleprompter outside his door, that tells people just when he can’t reasonably ignore them when they come knocking, someone knocks. When Dean took Arthur’s old place - wanting to live nearer to Dom while Arthur wanted a change of scenery - he didn’t know Arthur gets so many visitors. Months into living here, he’s still telling people they’ve got the wrong place. Apparently, being the middle man for the world’s greatest extractor is just as shady - but much less quiet than - Dean imagined.

“I’ll make sure Dom understands, Dean. I promise,” Arthur’s saying, as Dean calls out a, ’Just a minute’ to whoever’s on the other side of his door. “Just let Eames stew a while. If he’s even doing that. He was drunk when he called, he probably doesn’t care.”

He does if he has any sense in his head, Dean thinks. He loves Dom. But if he didn’t? Well. He can’t imagine he would walk out on Arthur, if it had been him in Eames’s place, let’s just put it that way.

“Okay. I’ll see you at the warehouse.”

Arthur hangs up and Dean opens his door, setting aside his cell phone with one hand and running his fingers through his still-damp hair with the other.

There’s a British voice saying, before the door’s even opened more than a crack, “Look, love, I know you’re probably still furious at me and I deserve that, but-”

The door opens far enough for Dean to see, and be seen by, his visitor and Eames shuts up. He blinks, looking at Dean.

Dean is caught off guard - by the fact that it’s Eames at his door. By the look on Eames’s face. He- He looks a little like Dom does, when he’s really down and talks about Mal.

That’s why Dean doesn’t react fast enough to stop him when Eames punches him in the face.

By the time Dean’s blinked the stars out of his eyes, Eames has walked away.

“Son of a bitch!“ Dean yells, holding the bridge of his nose.

Oh, yeah. Arthur’s got it wrong. Dean’s pretty sure that Eames cares who the hell Arthur’s with now.

“Fuck!”

And Dean’s got to figure out how to explain his swollen eyes to his boyfriend when Dom’s flight touches down this afternoon.


End file.
